


I hate you, I hate you, I hate you {but I was just kidding myself}

by bumbleb_tch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Idk College Aged, It's a misunderstanding really DON'T STRESS, Listen he's a little dense but he doesn't lie to himself or other people, M/M, Mental Illness, Reliable Narrator Hajime Iwaizumi, Reliable Narrator Tobio Kageyama, Set at an unspecified future time, Suggested Dissociative Disorder (unspecified), Suicide Attempt, This was like a mental illness character study so i could process my own trauma, Uh oh we're adding more tags cause I wrote three more chapters, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Tooru Oikawa, as I am prone to do, lowkey a slow burn, referenced homophobia, reliable narrator, vaguely open ended but the Implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumbleb_tch/pseuds/bumbleb_tch
Summary: Movement atop the bridge caught Kageyama’s attention, slowing his pace as he squinted at the figure shuffling back and forth. Getting in a fight with a drunk college kid who was hanging out on a bridge in the middle of the night was not what he wanted to do.He edged closer, watching them pace with some dormant curiosity flaring to life for once, pushing his feet forward without thought.Until they stepped too close to a lamp, the harsh light illuminating messy hair and sharp features.Kageyama’s heart shuddered and plummeted to rest in the pit of his stomach, the bone-aching chill of the air settling into his blood and leaving him frozen in place, gaping in disbelief.Maybe he was hallucinating, or dreaming.Or maybe it would be more accurate to call it a nightmare, since Tooru Oikawa had never featured in his life in a positive way, and the nausea rising in his stomach wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling.---4 part adventure of two human disasters being too dense to realize they're falling in love ft. mental illness
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 66
Kudos: 344





	1. before you go {was there something I could've said to make your heart beat better}

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is neither of the WIPs that I was gassing people up about but those ARE coming guys, I'm deep into them, I was just briefly possessed and wrote all of this in the last 24 hours like a maniac. I don't have a great explanation for it, it's a little off kilter and sad but honestly I really like it and I hope y'all do too.
> 
> As always a huge huge thank you to Papillon10 for being my beta reader, she keeps my head on straight >.<
> 
> Also please please please check out @Iizuumi on Twitter, they did some AMAZING art for my soulmate au and deserve more attention for their work!!!

Between the frost crunching beneath his sneakers, the bitter chill leaving his extremities numb, and the fact that he could barely see three feet in front of his face, Tobio Kageyama had really set himself up for failure with his current decisions. A midnight run was never the best choice, especially in the dead of winter with a storm on the way, and if he was honest, he had no idea what had driven him to run out the door in the first place. It wasn’t like him at all.

Worst of all, normally the repetitive pounding of his feet against the ground would give Kageyama some sort of relief from the restless energy itching just beneath his skin, but if anything, it only continued to fester. 

He kept running, as if somehow he might leave the feeling behind if he could just push himself hard enough, fast enough. Deciding that it would be more trouble than it was worth to risk tripping, Tobio diverted from his usual route, weaving through out of the way trails, and headed towards a nearby park, sparsely lit with street lamps. The path rose and fell between the trees, leading him to a bridge arching over a creek, frozen over thanks to the icy air. 

Movement atop the bridge caught Kageyama’s attention, slowing his pace as he squinted at the figure shuffling back and forth. Getting in a fight with a drunk college kid who was hanging out on a bridge in the middle of the night was not what he wanted to do. 

There was too much distance between them for him to really make out any distinctive characteristics besides that they were tall and lean, their shoulders hunched over and curled in protectively. It didn’t matter, and normally Kageyama was not exactly a nosy person, but something about the way they moved and his own unbearable nerves demanded more information.

He edged closer, watching them pace with some dormant curiosity flaring to life for once, pushing his feet forward without thought. 

Until they stepped too close to a lamp, the harsh light illuminating messy hair and sharp features.

Kageyama’s heart shuddered and plummeted to rest in the pit of his stomach, the bone-aching chill of the air settling into his blood and leaving him frozen in place, gaping in disbelief.

Maybe he was hallucinating, or dreaming.

That was probably the best explanation for why he’d stumbled out of his house in the middle of the night for an unscheduled run on a path he’d never taken that led him straight to his highschool rival who he hadn’t seen in years. 

Or maybe it would be more accurate to call it a nightmare, since Tooru Oikawa had never featured in his life in a positive way, and the nausea rising in his stomach wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling. 

Just as Tobio was about to turn around and head home to climb in bed and pretend that none of this ever happened, Oikawa moved closer to one of the railings and slung a leg over it, the rest of his body following to balance on the outside edge. 

Kageyama’s jaw dropped for the second time, a strangled cry dying in his throat as his vision tunneled, blood roaring in his ears and impulse alone directing his limbs. 

Then his arms were hooking under Oikawa’s and over his shoulders, pinning his back to Tobio’s chest and hauling the slender man back onto the bridge with less trouble than he expected. 

Distantly he shoved away the fact that that thought implied he’d at some point considered how Oikawa’s weight would feel in his arms and that was vaguely uncomfortable to really consider. 

Oikawa twisted his head back to blink up at him silently, eyes wide and owlish. 

For a long moment they just stared at each other, equally shocked by what had transpired in mere seconds.

“K-kageyama,” Oikawa stuttered out, “Uh, could you let me go?”

In the handful of years of experience he had with Tooru Oikawa, he had never once heard him stutter- or call him by his family name. 

Somehow that was almost as terrifying as seeing him climb over the bridge rail.

“No.” He replied flatly, moving them both off the bridge and onto the paved path in an awkward half shuffle, half dragging of Oikawa, who was not exactly fighting him, but not really helping him either- just sort of limply allowing Kageyama to manhandle him. 

He was increasingly more convinced this was a nightmare. 

When they were what Tobio deemed a sufficient distance from danger, he loosened his hold enough to spin Oikawa around to face him, still gripping his shoulders with slightly more force than necessary. 

“What the fuck was that?” he barked, jerking his head towards the bridge behind them. 

Oikawa ogled him vacantly, seeming more perplexed by the situation than Kageyama himself. “Huh?” 

Sucking a breath through his teeth and resisting the urge to shake the older man -who as it turned out was shorter than him now, and, had he interrupted any other situation, he might have taken an odd sort of satisfaction in it.

But he couldn’t.

Because the situation he’d interrupted was an apparent suicide attempt and he couldn’t figure out if he was scared or pissed.

And, more importantly, why it was affecting him so much at all.

Not to say that he wouldn’t have done the same thing for a stranger, but if it had been, somehow he didn’t think his heart would be shuddering quite so painfully, leaving him trembling with every shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama finally asked, toneless and calm as if he weren’t suddenly on the brink of a meltdown of his own. 

A sneer twisted Oikawa’s features, the ugly expression warping his delicate features into a condescending mask as he snarled, “Obviously not.”

It was the most in character thing that he’d done so far and the relief that washed over Tobio tore the air from his lungs, pulling free a hysterical giggle along with it. “Okay,” He said breathlessly, “Let’s go then.” 

He didn’t have a plan beyond getting both of them as far from that bridge as possible as fast as possible. Because even if Oikawa was a dick who would never be nice to him -even if he saved his goddamn life- Kageyama still wouldn’t stand by and do nothing while he was a danger to himself.

The sneer had been replaced by bewilderment, but Oikawa didn’t fight him as Kageyama relinquished his punishing grip and moved to lace their fingers together- not that he really cooperated either, his hand limp and ice cold.

Nor did he protest when Kageyama turned back the way he’d originally come from, moving at a brisk but manageable pace, and pulling Oikawa along behind him.

When five minutes passed in complete silence, Tobio once again found himself questioning whether or not this was real, peeking from the corner of his eye to study his former senpai. 

There was no doubt that it was Tooru Oikawa, The Grand King himself, but it was a version of him that Kageyama had never seen before. 

To put it bluntly, he looked like shit. 

Dark circles were smudged under his eyes, and while his face had always been almost femininely delicate, now, that high bone structure cast hollow shadows in his cheeks. The perfect bedhead, that Kageyama knew for a fact was painstakingly crafted, was completely unrecognizable, wild and unruly in some places, but limp and greasy in others.

If someone had asked him before that exact moment to picture Oikawa looking anything but entirely too polished, Kageyama would have struggled to summon the visual.

And being confronted with the sight of his greatest rival -the player he’d most respected and aspired to be like- reduced to a ghost of his former self, left him choking back bile. 

Belatedly, he realized that while he’d been lost in thought he’d tightened his hold on Oikawa’s hand until it was nearly crushing, yet the man hadn’t even seemed to notice. Kageyama turned his head fully to the side and fixed his companion with the most obvious and intense stare he could summon, which might normally summon a scoff and reprimand not to frown so much or he ‘might get wrinkles’. 

Oikawa didn’t even glance at him, glassy eyes fixed on the ground just ahead of his feet. 

It was then that Tobio realized he was limping. Not in a terribly obvious way, just a slight stumble and a crooked gait that favoured his right leg, using his left to overcompensate. Oikawa had injured his leg years ago, but he hadn’t limped then.

Kageyama glanced at their surroundings, figuring there was at least another half mile to his apartment -which he’d selected as their destination at some point, although he couldn’t pinpoint when- and stopped abruptly. “Does your leg hurt?” 

“What? Where are we going?” Oikawa stumbled, his head jerking up to whip back and forth as if he didn’t know where he was or how he got there.

It occured to Tobio that he might  _ not  _ know how he got there, which left him wondering if it were more likely that the dazed and disoriented man was in shock or on drugs.

He wasn’t even sure which he preferred. Neither, really. 

“You’re limping,” Kageyama stated, pointing at the leg that he’d been favouring as they walked.

“So?” Oikawa threw his shoulders back and shoved his chin in the air, a familiar condescending pride flaring to life in his eyes as he somehow managed to look down on Kageyama despite definitely being shorter. 

It was both reassuring and annoying as hell.

Kageyama tipped his head back and smothered a groan, repeating his earlier question. “Does your leg hurt?”

Oikawa broke eye contact, scowling at nothing with his nose still held high. “Why do you care?” he snapped. 

As usual, what Oikawa didn’t say spoke volumes more than what he did say ever could. And luckily for them both, Kageyama was more perceptive than he used to be.

That said, the bar was low to begin with.

But it wasn’t hard to see that Oikawa’s pride still refused to suffer its painful death and that kept him from expressing any kind of weakness, even when it was causing unnecessary pain. 

He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt, thankful that amidst the series of nerve wracking events, it was at least dark enough to make faces without pissing off his potentially intoxicated former senpai. “Get on my back,” Tobio said, not really asking so much as commanding.

Unsurprisingly Oikawa immediately dug his heels in, almost literally, shifting back and eyeing him with venomous distaste. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s another half mile at least so just do it or I’ll knee you in the stomach and toss you over my shoulder before you can recover,” Kageyama threatened, looking him dead in the eye and stubbornly holding his gaze. 

Oikawa held his ground, lip curling ever so slightly as the silence between them stretched into awkwardness, neither willing to give in, but both aware that Tobio clearly had the advantage.

They were just waiting out Oikawa’s pride at this point. 

Much to Kageyama’s surprise, he relented only a few moments later, sighing and folding back in on himself almost as if he were deflating. 

At least he didn’t verbally admit defeat. That might have been too much for Tobio to handle. 

As it was, Oikawa clambering onto his back like a child without another complaint did nothing to settle his apparently permanently frayed nerves. “You’re heavy,” Kageyama grumbled, tucking his hands under Oikawa’s thighs and straightening up.

He was lying. 

Oikawa wasn’t heavy at all. Or at least not as heavy as he should have been for someone of his height, even with his naturally lean frame. 

Disappointingly, he also didn’t seem to feel the need to respond, letting silence fall once more, but it wasn’t quite so awkward and hostile as it had been. Within a few minutes feather light snowflakes began to drift from the sky, brushing across Tobio’s skin and settling in his hair and eyelashes.

Straining not to be obvious, he peeked at Oikawa from the corner of his eye again, wondering why he was putting so much effort into being subtle when the man barely seemed to be on the same planet half the time. “Are you okay back there?” Kageyama asked softly, listening closely for a response and hearing only a small snort as Oikawa readjusted, tucking his face against his neck.

Hot air puffed across his skin, triggering a full body shudder that he decided not to think too hard about as he tried again, whispering, “Oikawa-san?”

The only reply Tobio received was a soft snore.

By the time he managed to stumble into his apartment, Oikawa’s full deadweight still sprawled across his back, they were both slightly damp from the snow that had collected -and melted- on their clothing. Kageyama deposited the other man on the couch with as much care as he could manage, realizing afterwards that the other man was thoroughly dead to the world and he probably could’ve dropped him in a pile on the floor without waking him up.

Then pressed two slender fingers to Oikawa’s pulse point, just in case.

The skin was smooth and soft but cold as ice, the weak throbbing of his heart pulsing in the vein just beneath leaving Kageyama’s fingertips tingling with electricity as their heartbeats almost seemed to sync. Something about that was incredibly attractive and absolutely terrifying, leaving him unsure of how he felt.

Tobio dropped his hand to shake Oikawa’s shoulder, gently, until the sleeping man’s forehead creased and his lashes fluttered as he awoke, dark doe eyes sliding open lazily to stare up at him without indication that he knew where he was -or cared. But he was at least focusing on him -kind of, so Kageyama counted that as good enough. 

“Oikawa-san, you should change out of those clothes so you don’t get sick. If you want to, you can-” 

Oikawa didn’t let him finish. “Why are you doing this?” he cut in, squinting up at him with more clarity by the second.

Kageyama wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not and eyed him warily. “What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you hate me?” Oikawa cried, not quite a shout, but too loud for after one in the morning. 

With a dry look and a drier tone, Kageyama replied. “I think you’re projecting, Oikawa-san.” 

“Maybe I am,” he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest. “You  _ should  _ hate me, for how I treated you.”

Not bothering to even consider that, since it sounded stupid and he hadn’t cared in  _ literal years _ , Kageyama shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I don’t. I never did.”

For a long moment Oikawa just gaped up at him from where he was still sprawled on the couch. He finally snapped his jaw shut with a crunch, nose scrunched in displeasure. “Well, you always were better than me,” he spat.

“I wasn’t,” Tobio replied without hesitation. “But I wanted to be.”

No reason to lie, since they both knew it was true.

But Oikawa didn’t seem to have an answer for that, eerily silent once again.

As someone who had once prayed to any god that would listen for Tooru Oikawa to just stop talking, it was incredibly upsetting to actually be faced with that reality. 

“Why were you on the bridge?” Kageyama asked bluntly, not seeing any reason to continue skirting the issue. 

Oikawa hummed in disinterest. “Oh, that.”

“Yes. That.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” he dismissed, waving a nonchalant hand through the air as if he were shooing the elephant in the room away. 

“The fuck it isn’t,” Kageyama snapped, scowling down at him as he quickly approached the limits of his patience. “The Tooru Oikawa I knew would never be seen looking the way you do right now, which is like shit, by the way. And he was definitely too in love with himself to try and jump off a bridge!”

Oikawa broke eye contact and sulked. “I wasn’t going to jump. Probably.” 

He scoffed, squinting in silence and waiting for the explanation to continue. 

Sighing, Oikawa took the cue. “There’s just something about staring into the abyss that makes you feel alive even when your lungs are choked with nothing and you can’t breath and every waking moment is spent in a constant state of pain,” he drawled in an odd mix of deadpan and overemphasizing. 

“Would you jump?” Kageyama asked, probably rudely, studying the older man’s face for his reaction.

Oikawa wasn’t affected in the slightest, a perfectly impassive mask pasted across his face as he hmm’d and haw’d noncommittally before settling on, “Maybe. One day.” 

Which was a shitty answer, really, but somehow Kageyama didn’t see it going well for him if he said that out loud. “Why?” he asked instead.

“It doesn’t really matter-”

Tobio cut him off immediately. “It  _ does  _ matter.” 

“To who?” Oikawa fired back, a frown beginning to twist his mouth. “I don’t matter to anyone, trust me.”

“Technically I can’t speculate about anyone but myself, but you do to me.” Kageyama argued, blurting the words without thinking, but realizing the truth in them as soon as they left his mouth- too late to take them back.

“No, I don’t. Even if you don’t hate me, you don’t like me- you don’t know me,” Oikawa said, an obstinate scowl fixed on his face as he lurched to his feet, pacing the length of the room in the same awkward and jerky manner he’d paced the bridge. 

It made Tobio’s skin prickle and his feet itch to follow after him. He found it decidedly uncomfortable. 

“Oikawa-san, regardless of whether or not I like you, you shaped a large part of my life, you represented -represent- something to me and have since I first saw you play,” Kageyama sighed, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair, feeling the exhaustion of the late hour and everything that had transpired setting in. “And even if you didn’t, you’re still a person, you still have worth, I wouldn’t stand there and let you die.”

Scoffing, Oikawa stuck his nose in the air, once again managing to look down on Tobio despite physically looking up at him. “Still, just because you’re a decent human being who wouldn’t watch someone they know commit suicide in front of them doesn’t mean that I matter to you.” His voice darkened, seeping out in a venomous snarl, “We’re not friends, we’re not close, I can’t call you up and say ‘yoo-hoo Tobio-chan, I’m thinking of taking a quick toaster bath, thoughts?’”

It was sarcastic -and probably rhetorical- but Kageyama didn’t really care. 

“You could, if you didn’t have anyone else to call,” he offered without hesitation.

Oikawa stopped in his tracks, eyes bulging as he stared at him, eventually managing a choked, “What?”

Squinting at him and doing his very best to not sound condescending, Kageyama rephrased his sentence. “If you wanted to talk to someone, you could call me. I’d listen.”

He wasn't sure if Oikawa was in disbelief or just thought he was lying -although he was telling the truth, because no one should ever have to face something alone if they don't want to- but Kageyama was left meeting another vacant and unfocused gaze. 

An odd sound rattled in Oikawa's chest, high pitched and fragile, fluttering out almost like a cough. 

The only thing that Kageyama could label it would be a laugh, but that was like calling his own scowl a warm smile. 

“Are you going to let me leave any time soon?” Oikawa finally asked, his voice sharp but exhausted as it cut the tension between them.

“Are you going to tell me why you were standing on a bridge any time soon?” Tobio replied, with just a hint of sarcasm. It wasn’t really a question, since he knew that Oikawa was unlikely to answer. 

“Hmph.” Oikawa stalked forward, closing the distance between them until their chests touched and there were mere inches separating their faces, harsh breaths puffing across Kageyama’s face. “First of all, it is  _ incredibly  _ obnoxious of you to be taller than me and I consider this a personal offence.”

Of course he did. Kageyama wasn’t even surprised.

“Second,” Oikawa drawled, pressing the full length of his body against Tobio and walking him back until his calves hit the couch and he fell. “You talk too much, which is possibly hypocritical of me to say, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Dazed, he stared up in shock as Oikawa loomed over him for a split second before following him onto the couch, caging Kageyama in by straddling his hips and bracing his arms on either side of his shoulders. 

Tobio was running mostly on autopilot as he ran through possible motives for Oikawa’s actions, eventually landing on what he considered the most plausible one at the exact moment Oikawa dropped his head and slanted their lips together.

Immediately, Kageyama gripped Oikawa’s chin and forced him back, glaring sourly and trying not to feel insulted. “If this is your attempt to distract me it will not work,” he growled, hoping for once that his ‘intimidating aura’ might affect his former senpai and make him behave.

But that would be too easy.

Oikawa sighed dramatically, tugging free of Kageyama’s grip but making no motion to move off his lap. “What do you want from me, Tobio-chan?”

“Honesty? For once ever,” he snarked back. 

Tilting his head and staring off into space, Oikawa made the picture of consideration. It was so plastic that Kageyama nearly smacked him. “Well, just this once.” He breathed, shrugging his shoulders, and holding up a hand to tick off his fingers as he spoke, “Let’s see. In the last year I came out to my parents and got disowned for my ‘disease’, tore my ACL clean in half, didn’t let it heal properly thanks to my own hubris, permanently ending my career, I was so obsessed with getting back on the court that I isolated myself from almost everyone in my life and then when I lost that too, there was nothing left-” 

Kageyama could barely think between the barrage of sentences; he wondered how Oikawa managed to breathe.

“-The few people who  _ are _ still in my life don't understand, and why would they? Volleyball is just a sport to them, they don't end and begin on the court. They're not like us." Oikawa paused for a moment, not at all out of breath, and met his eyes.

It was far from the first time that they’d stared at each other, but something about the way Oikawa’s chocolate irises were glossed over with honest tears made him think that perhaps this might be the first time he’d ever really  _ seen _ him. 

And Oikawa wasn’t done with his confession, still plowing ahead so quickly that he stumbled over his words, "And I wasn't gonna do it tonight, I really wasn’t, but the fact that you, of all people, showed up to ruin my plans yet again, really pisses me off. Cause y'know what? You matter to me too. You always have. Probably even more than I did to you. You've been one step ahead of me every step of the way and I despised it." He spat the last sentence bitterly, but there was no malice in his gaze, and one side of his mouth curved up in a wobbly attempt at a smile. 

It was probably a bad sign that the sight made something in his chest ache and he immediately decided that he preferred that smile over any polished mask that Oikawa normally pasted on -but that was a problem for another time.

Oikawa’s voice dropped to just above a whisper, coming out in choppy, hesitant bursts. "Tonight though, tonight I'm grateful that you were one step ahead of me and you're a better person than I'll ever be. So. Thank you. Tobio." 

Kageyama opened his mouth to reply but before he could actually force anything out, Oikawa kept going. 

"Also in the spirit of honesty, I kissed you because you turned out kind of cute and I haven't really felt anything in a long time but you still managed to piss me off and I thought maybe you could make me feel something else too." His voice was teasing but a little off cadence and oddly rushed.

Since it was obvious that Oikawa didn’t want to dwell on the massive amount of information that he’d just dumped literally in Kageyama’s lap, he decided that Oikawa being weird and obnoxious was vastly preferable to him being shitty and self deprecating and tipped his head to the side, replying monotonously. "That's a lousy come on, Oikawa-san. Especially since I pulled you off of a bridge and essentially have you on a personal suicide watch."

"I wasn't going to jump!” Oikawa yelped, smacking his chest with enough force to sting. 

He swallowed a laugh and pursed his lips in contemplation. "Technically, you can't prove that since I stopped you."

Sulking dramatically, Oikawa leaned as far away from Kageyama as he could manage without actually moving off his lap or falling over. "I've decided I hate you after all," he said, peering at him from the corner of his eye with disdain that was half hearted at best.

This time he couldn't choke back his chuckle fast enough as he shot back, "Well, like you said, I  _ am _ better than you"

It was hard to say whether Oikawa was most shocked by his laugh or the joke as he stiffened up and hollered, indignantly, "Mean!! You’re  _ not,  _ because you’re still giving me entirely too much respect and refusing to call me by my name.”

Kageyama was pretty sure that there were plenty of strong arguments to prove why Oikawa was better than him in some way, but that certainly was not one of them. “I do call you by your name,” he said, cocking an eyebrow unquestioningly. 

“My  _ family  _ name, not  _ my  _ name,” Oikawa complained, stressing the words with particular offence and rolling his eyes as if he were silently calling Tobio stupid. 

The corner of Kageyama's mouth twitched in what he'd probably label a smirk. Oikawa had always loved playing word and mind games, and that trait hadn't seemed to fade, at least not once he'd pulled himself out of the weird fog he was in. 

But Oikawa hadn't played with Kageyama in a long time, and he wasn't quite the respectful and pliant kouhai he'd once been. 

He leaned back against the couch cushions and dropped his chin, glancing up through his eyelashes at the man who had the most inflammatory personality he'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with -except perhaps Tsukishima. 

“You’re that horny for me to call you Tooru-kun instead?” Kageyama asked in a carefully measured and completely toneless manner. 

It was intentionally vulgar and aggravating, but the result was better than he could have anticipated. 

Oikawa’s eyes were impossibly wide, white sclera visible all the way around his iris, cheeks flushed a rosy pink that stained his sallow skin with life for the first time all night and left him sputtering nonsensical sounds as he desperately tried to form an answer.

Kageyama let an actual laugh, nervous and still a little hysterical but genuine, bubble from his chest and into the air. 

At which point Oikawa seemed to figure out that he was teasing him and started smacking him again, each halfhearted blow accompanied by an equally halfhearted insult, his head still ducked low in an attempt to hide his blush. 

He had to admit, when he left his apartment on a spur of the moment run, hours earlier, he’d never imagined that it would end with Tooru Oikawa sprawled on his lap after trying to kiss him and blushing like a schoolgirl over a mildly dirty retort. And he wasn’t really sure what it meant in a bigger picture sort of way, but in hindsight, maybe it hadn’t been such a terrible decision after all. 


	2. our every moment, I start to replay {but all I can think about is seeing that look on your face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m anemic though.” Tooru sulked as a wave of lightheadedness washed over him and he let his eyes drift shut. “What if I lose too much blood?” he mused, louder than he meant to.
> 
> “Are you serious.” 
> 
> It wasn’t really a question so much as an incredulous statement, but he answered anyway, tipping his head up to narrow his eyes at Kageyama, standing a few feet away with an ice pack and an exasperated expression. “I don’t have much blood to begin with!” he snipped back, prolonging the useless argument out of habit more than anything else, almost as if he were following some kind of script. 
> 
> A pattern that Tooru himself had written almost a decade earlier and then followed religiously; an ugly, antagonistic, and argumentative dance that he’d led them through and hated every minute of, but never managed to convince his worthless pride to just drop the rope and be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is UP, guys? I got a little buckwild this last month and I'm still working on my longer WIPS for requested Jealous/Pining Oikawa, I didn't forget. But I got really invested in this mental illness study and I wrote a bunch for it. It is Complete and I'll post the rest of it over the next couple weeks, I really hope y'all enjoy it. 
> 
> As always a huge thanks to my wonderful beta, Papillon10
> 
> And a shoutout to @iizuumi on twitter, they are an Incredible artist and they keep fueling me with more fic ideas so please please check them out and give them some love!

When Oikawa opened his eyes and found himself curled in a blanket on Tobio Kageyama’s couch -with the genius himself snoring next to him- it took a full minute for the reality of the situation to careen into him with the force of a freight train. Once it did, he briefly considered fleeing the apartment before the other man even woke up. 

He dismissed that almost immediately, but only because he technically had no idea where he was and there was no chance he’d make it off the couch and out the door without waking up Kageyama. 

And it wasn’t like he really had anywhere to go except an empty apartment that was too cluttered for him to think straight but not trashed enough to force him to pull it together and clean it. 

Tooru shifted, slowly extricating his limbs from his blanket cocoon as silently as he could manage and then pushing himself up. Almost as if the universe had some sort of vendetta against him, his arm immediately gave out, sending him tumbling to the floor, slamming his nose into Kageyama’s knee on the way down and letting out a strangled yelp.

Kageyama rocketed off the couch, panicked bewilderment painted on his features as he took in the scene he’d awoken to, and stood over him, seemingly unsure of what to say or do. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice raspy from sleep, and maybe a little bit too unfairly attractive despite having just woken up. 

His nose throbbed. With his luck, it was probably broken.

Oikawa groaned pathetically, cupping his hand under his throbbing nose as blood poured out in a steady stream, still sprawled in a heap on the floor. “Do I  _ look  _ okay?” he spat, the pain and his own panic fraying his nerves by the second. 

Rather than bothering to answer -likely because the answer was that he looked like shit and was bleeding- Kageyama clambered behind him and hauled him back up to sit on the edge of the couch with very little effort. This reminded Tooru that not only had the younger man bodily hauled him off a bridge, but also carried him an indefinite distance to the apartment they were in now and left him wondering whether that said more about Kageyama’s strength or his own health. 

Kageyama’s fingers tugged his away from his nose and then gripped his chin, tilting his head up just slightly to scrutinize the bleeding. “Might be swelling.”

He scowled, hoping that any stutter in his voice was written off as pain, and any flush to his cheeks dismissed as panic, and certainly not connected to the fingers pressing against his skin far gentler than Oikawa would have ever expected Tobio Kageyama to treat him. “What do I do? It won’t stop,” he whined, cupping his nose again to stifle the flow. 

It was almost disappointing when Kageyama released his grip -although he couldn’t say why- and stood back, tugging his shirt up and over his head, leaving the broad, muscled expanse of his chest bare. 

“What-What are you doing?” Oikawa yelped, jerking his head to the side and then feeling like an idiot for getting worked up about something as stupid as  _ Tobio-chan taking his shirt off.  _

Even if he  _ was  _ unfairly chiseled like a model straight from any gay man’s wet dream, it was still humiliating that it managed to reduce him to blushing like a fourteen year old schoolgirl so quickly.

Everything about Kageyama was incredibly humiliating. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when Kageyama shoved his folded shirt beneath Tooru’s nose, blood immediately staining the fabric. 

“I don’t want your blood on the couch. I’m going to get an ice pack for the swelling.” He replied, half over his shoulder, as he headed out of the room and into what Oikawa assumed was the kitchen. 

Tooru gaped after him.

In bewilderment, of course. 

Not because he was distracted by the lean muscle rippling across Kageyama’s shoulders and back; that would be ridiculous. 

Focusing his attention back on his injury, he pulled the shirt away and immediately felt the blood dribble across his lip. He tipped his head back to keep it from running any further and his throat burned, triggering a coughing fit.

“Don’t tip your head back!” Kageyama shouted, sprinting across the room to pull him back upright.

“I thought you were supposed to tip it back to stop the bleeding!” he choked out between gasps, staring defiantly in his general direction. The coughs died off and Oikawa huffed, rolling his tongue in his mouth and wrinkling his nose in distaste at the iron tang souring his taste buds. “I taste blood.”

“That’s what happens when you try to drown yourself with your own nosebleed,” Kageyama said, his words biting but serious. “You can literally choke, lean over with your head between your knees.” As if he thought Oikawa didn’t have basic comprehension skills -or maybe because he knew that he was a stubborn prick- Kageyama’s hand curled around the back of his neck and guided his head down to rest between his knees. 

And the electric shock that raced through his entire body at the touch kept him from even thinking about resisting until he was already staring at the floor, exhausted despite only having been awake for like, twenty minutes. “Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll die,” Tooru mumbled around the towel still pressed to his face, only half joking. 

“No, dumbass, you’re not bleeding that much. Just let it drain til it’s done,” Kageyama chided, moving around Oikawa and doing who knows what since he couldn’t see him and that was incredibly anxiety inducing, for no explainable reason. 

The insult managed to silence him for a solid thirty seconds out of sheer surprise, his kouhai had always been one for polite respect no matter what he did, but it seemed like years of experience and perhaps the new height difference had made Kageyama much bolder in the face of his antics. 

“I’m anemic though.” Tooru sulked as a wave of lightheadedness washed over him and he let his eyes drift shut. “What if I lose too much blood?” he mused, louder than he meant to.

“Are you serious.” 

It wasn’t really a question so much as an incredulous statement, but he answered anyway, tipping his head up to narrow his eyes at Kageyama, standing a few feet away with an ice pack and an exasperated expression. “I don’t have much blood to begin with!” he snipped back, prolonging the useless argument out of habit more than anything else, almost as if he were following some kind of script. 

A pattern that Tooru himself had written almost a decade earlier and then followed religiously; an ugly, antagonistic, and argumentative dance that he’d led them through and hated every minute of, but never managed to convince his worthless pride to just drop the rope and  _ be. _

But where he continued to play on an endless repeat, Kageyama had written in new lines, had become someone else and erased the playing field of years past that existed between them. Before, Oikawa would have been able to predict exactly what would elicit the best reaction from the younger setter, what he would say in response to this or that.

And though they’d spent less than twelve hours together and only a couple of those actually conscious at the same time, Kageyama had managed to surprise him with almost every reaction and response. 

All the carefully constructed lines in his head were blurring into nothing with every kind word. 

He’d spat vitriol at his rival- his enemy- and not only been extended an olive branch of forgiveness, but protected even from himself, completely and utterly selflessly- and he couldn’t even pull it together to not pick petty and childish fights about a nosebleed he gave himself.

Tooru dropped his head back between his knees and let the silence fall around him, shoulders shaking as he fought back silent sobs. 

The couch shifted and sank beneath him as Kageyama took a seat next to him, not quite touching him, but only inches apart, where he could  _ feel _ him even though he couldn’t see him, what with his head still tucked defensively between his knees.

“Just take a deep breath,” Kageyama coaxed, voice low and gentle, rather than harshly demanding.

Oikawa obeyed without thinking, inhaling deeply through his nose.

And immediately choked. 

Again.

“Through your  _ mouth _ , idiot!” 

He heard Kageyama yell over the sound of his own body's wracking, wet coughs and managed to shriek back, “You have to  _ specify, _ you  _ said  _ inhale!” 

Kageyama yanked him upright and shook him by his shoulder. “You have a  _ nosebleed _ , I thought it was obvious.” 

Oikawa whipped his head to the side and glared him down, whining again, but louder and even more obnoxiously, “Now is not the time to bully me!”

Rolling his eyes, Kageyama shoved him gently and scoffed. “It’s always time to bully you.” And before Tooru could manage to summon a response, he’d grabbed his chin- again- and tugged away the now very bloody fabric that used to be his shirt, squinting hard.

Oikawa felt a fresh flush spread across his cheeks at the intense scrutinization, and stared at a lamp over Kageyama’s shoulder to avoid accidentally making eye contact. 

“It looks like it’s pretty much stopped,” Kageyama said, shrugging his broad- and still bare- shoulders as he stood back up. “I have somewhere to be, wash your face and I’ll bring you a new shirt.” 

“Where do you have to be?” Oikawa called after him, twisting around to watch him leave but not moving from the couch.

Kageyama shouted from the room he’d disappeared into, “I need to go out and I don’t trust you to behave so you’re going to have to come with me.”

It was one thing to let Kageyama take care of him, but it was another for him to treat him like a child. Slumping on the couch and rolling his eyes at the ceiling, Tooru spat back, “I’m not six, Tobio. Where are you going?"

He watched from the corner of his eye as Kageyama reentered the room and launched a shirt directly at his face, leaving him sputtering as he tugged the fabric away from his face, ready to spew vitriol. 

Only to have his scowl slip away when he found Kageyama’s eyes dark and guarded, not quite meeting his gaze as he mumbled, “Uh, practice.” 

An icy pit opened in his chest and he let a blank mask fall over his features as familiar numbness swelled to envelop him. The cold emptiness had soaked his every waking moment for long enough that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to  _ feel. _ And he’d noticed that it had faded the longer he was in Kageyama’s presence -that’s why he’d stayed, wasn’t it? That’s why he acted out, to feel something beyond the vast  _ nothing. _

But he’d managed to forget just how awful it felt, until it was filling his lungs like oil, thick and viscous as it choked the life out of him. 

Kageyama’s voice, edged with nervous apprehension, broke through his thoughts. “Like I said, you’re coming with me, so wash the blood off your face and get your shoes.” 

“No,” Oikawa deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and refusing to look at him. 

Childish for someone who had just complained about being treated like he was six? Perhaps.

Kageyama seemed to be equally aware of this, his voice dropping low and serious. “You can either walk yourself through the door or I will throw you over my shoulder, but either way I will not be late because of you.” 

Tipping his head up to squint at him, Tooru found Kageyama with his own inscrutable mask, and weighed the chances of him winning if they got into a fight. 

And whether he was willing to jeopardize the idea of  _ something  _ that was already growing between them.

Clenching his jaw so hard he would later swear one of his teeth cracked under the force, Oikawa sprang off the couch and stalked toward the bathroom to clean his face. What followed was somehow the quietest but most charged interaction they had ever had. Most of which he spent with an ice pack pressed to his swollen nose, staring out the window, and letting his mind wander between everything and nothing at all, each thought evaporating as quickly as it appeared. 

He hadn’t even remembered the ice pack, in his childish fit of stomping out the door ahead of Kageyama, which had been useless and humiliating anyway because he didn’t know where they were going and had been forced to wait for Kageyama to lock the door and silently head down the hall. 

But his genius protégé had remembered. He’d passed it to him without a word, without even looking at him.

Tooru knew because  _ he _ was looking. Studying the man’s face as if he might somehow find answers to questions he wasn’t bold enough to ask yet, and wondering if it were really possible for someone to just be this good of a person. Kageyama had alway been better than him, that was the root of every discourse between them, but this almost bordered into some kind of saint-like patience.

If the situation had been reversed, Oikawa wouldn’t have let him die -he wasn’t a heartless psychopath, despite what some people believed- but his prideful temper would have gotten the better of him long before this point. 

But not Kageyama, no, he seemed to be enjoying the silence. His face lacked much expression, as usual, but there wasn’t any of the intensity that often tinged it either. Even when they’d been yelling at each other, he’d only seemed frustrated, or worse, amused. 

He couldn’t even hate that without feeling guilty because he was continuing to let Kageyama take care of him for reasons he wasn’t ready to really explore even within his own head, and thus was stubbornly ignoring. 

That guilt did not prevent him from quietly seething in his perch on a bleacher high above the volleyball court, his chest burning with envy as he watched his archenemy live their shared dream that he’d recently kept himself from achieving. Even though he knew that it wasn’t Kageyama’s intention to rub his comparative success in Oikawa’s face, it still wasn’t a pleasant experience. 

Especially as he no longer had any sort of high horse from which to judge Kageyama, who was quickly revealing himself as one of the most selfless people he had the fortune and misfortune of knowing.

He tipped his head back and glared at the ceiling vaulting high above, trying to beat back the myriad of bitter and accusatory thoughts rising in the back of his mind. 

“You’ll miss the plays if you’re staring up like that!” a high pitched voice piped up next to him, startling Oikawa up and almost out of his seat.

He gaped down at a pair of dark, wide eyes, almost too large for the tiny face they occupied, and shaded by thick dark bangs, gazing up at him expectantly. “Uh, what?” Tooru asked, glancing down at the volleyball clutched to the boy’s chest with hands that were just too damn small and almost pulled a smile onto his face. 

“You have to watch the court! Did you know these are some of the best players in Japan?” the child asked, his words almost running into each other with excitement as he took a seat next to Oikawa. 

He looked almost like a long forgotten memory of something before the sky started falling around Tooru’s ears, so much so that he wondered if it were possible that his mind had summoned a miniature version of Tobio Kageyama to plague him when the regular one was busy. 

But despite the ghost whispering, “ _ teach me to serve, Oikawa-san!”  _ in the back of his mind, guilt burning in its wake like holy fire, he didn’t think he’d really lost it enough to be imagining such a young version of his former kouhai. This kid was probably eleven years old -max- and he didn’t even know Kageyama at that age. 

“Who told you they were the best?” Oikawa asked, not quite sneering, but not exactly friendly either. 

His tone did not deter the child in the slightest, he just swung his legs and hugged his ball to his chest. “My mom. She’s their manager,” he said. 

Interesting that someone would choose to teach their son that rather than not to talk to strangers, but Tooru wouldn’t say that out loud. “What’s your name?” he asked, squinting down at him. 

“Oh!” The boy scrambled out of his seat and dropped into a bow. “I’m Shokichi Fujiwara.”

Oikawa bit back a smile, keeping a serious expression fixed upon his face as he asked, “Have you ever played volleyball before, Shokichi Fujiwara?” 

A shadow passed over him as he straightened up, but kept his head lowered. “My school doesn’t have a team, but I play with my friends and by myself.”

It wasn’t the same. It wouldn’t make up for what he’d done in the past. But at least it would be something different, something selfless and half right, for once. 

“Do you have somewhere you play when you’re not watching?” Tooru asked, glancing down at the court below them. 

Shokichi’s head shot up so fast that Oikawa very nearly felt his own neck crack, staring wide eyed up at him before nodding frantically. “There’s a field outside the gym and I use the wall a lot.” A wide grin stretched his cheeks, the words tumbling from his mouth tinged with excitement.

Tooru didn’t get a chance to swallow the laugh that bubbled up at the child’s honest glee. “Lead the way,” he said, pulling himself up to his full height. 

“What’s your name?” Shokichi asked, taking off bouncing just a few feet ahead of him and constantly checking over his shoulder to affirm that Oikawa was still following. 

“Tooru Oikawa. How old are you?”

“Nine, I’ll be ten in a month,” He replied immediately, hardly pausing before firing back another question. “Why do you walk with a limp?”

His steps faltered and he almost tripped. 

Most people had enough tact to be more subtle. But at least straightforward people like Shokichi -and Kageyama- were bold enough to actually ask. 

Honesty was never Tooru’s specialty, he’d always been a coward in one way or another, but at least children were less likely to judge you. 

“Technically, it’s rude to ask that. I used to play volleyball, but I got hurt,” He said with a forced laugh. 

Shokichi either failed to notice his discomfort or wasn’t put off by it, pressing further, “You  _ used  _ to? Not anymore?” 

Some part of him wanted to be irritated, but couldn’t summon the will to begrudge the kid’s persistent curiosity. 

“I can’t play like the guys in there.” Oikawa said, waving a hand back at the gym they’d just left. “Not without making it worse.”

A pondering frown twisted Shokichi’s face. “That sucks,” he said with the pure, honest sincerity that only a child could possess.

Tooru found himself laughing before he could even think to choke back his reaction, suddenly grateful that the boy was so much like Kageyama.

Not an ounce of tact, just blurting what he thought without beating around the bush. 

“You’re telling me," He said, aiming a wink at Shokichi, "But I can still teach you a thing or two, don’t worry"

A gleeful grin spread across the child’s face, his eyes wide and sparkling with delight over such a simple promise. "Thank you, Oikawa-san!" he cheered, high pitched and echoing in tandem with the memories rushing forth to plague Oikawa again. 

He couldn't help but wonder if Kageyama’s eyes might have looked like that, if he'd made the right choice so many years ago. 

Guilt, viscous and sour, welled in Tooru’s chest. 

Shame was one of his least favourite emotions, and he'd never felt it quite as potently as in that moment.

“Do you know the player positions in volleyball?” Oikawa asked, fighting to keep his easy going smile steady. 

Shokichi nodded vigorously, bouncing on his toes and chattering about how he wanted to be a spiker.

Which honestly came as a relief because if he’d uttered the word setter, Tooru might have passed away on the spot. 

Time slipped away from him as he coached Shokichi through motion after motion. But for the first time in a long while, it was because he was enjoying himself, rather than lost in the fog of his own mind. 

It had been a long time since he’d really enjoyed volleyball.

It had been a long time since his mind had just been quiet.

Oikawa set another toss to Shokichi, but watched it arc past the boy’s head -his attention caught on something past Oikawa’s shoulder. 

A shiver ran down his spine.

Another toothy grin split Shokichi’s face and he dashed past him with an exuberant shout. “Kageyama-san! Would you like to play with us? My friend has been teaching me all sorts of things.”

Turning, Oikawa found Kageyama’s dark eyes fixed on him, blank and guarded. The guilt that had settled in his chest spread up into his throat, choking the air from his lungs. 

Kageyama dropped his gaze, smiling softly down at Shokichi. “I’d like to play, Kichi-kun, but your mom is looking for you and we have to go. Maybe Oikawa-san and I can play with you another day.”

Maybe Tobio had been right- the only person holding a grudge against Oikawa was himself. 

He didn’t have the time to process that as Shokichi whipped around to gape at him, shouting at full volume, “Oikawa-san, you know Tobio Kageyama?”

If he hadn’t been watching, he might have missed Kageyama’s wince. He pretended he did.

“Yes, I taught him to play volleyball too.” Tooru said, sticking his tongue out at the child, “He’s even more obnoxious than you are.” His words were directed at Shokichi, but his eyes were still locked on Kageyama.

And he was staring back again, leaving Oikawa feeling painfully transparent and cursing the fact that he’d apparently completely lost his edge sometime between last night and this exact moment.

“Hey!” Shokichi yelled indignantly, drawing his attention to him as he dissolved into giggles and dropped into a bow. “Thank you for playing with me, Oikawa-san.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.” Oikawa chuckled weakly, waving him off

Something in his stomach trembled with nervous trepidation at the prospect of being left alone with Kageyama after Shokichi -his last line of defense- disappeared into the gym. 

He’d always been terrible at admitting his shortcomings, and even worse at being vulnerable. 

Oikawa watched as Shokichi snatched his ball off the ground and dashed back into the building, shouting over his shoulder, “Bye Kageyama-san, see you next practice!”

The silence left behind in his wake was suffocating.

Kageyama seemed content to wait for Oikawa to speak- but he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. 

Every second under the intense scrutiny of his midnight eyes weakened Tooru’s defenses until he finally murmured, barely above a whisper, “He reminded me of you. I fucked that up.” A shaky breath shuddered between his teeth. “I’m tired of fucking things up.”

Kageyama’s eyes widened, not like how Shokichi’s had, not how they might have at Kitagawa- full of innocence and glee- but they sparked with a pleased sort of surprise that made his heart stutter and burn.

“You didn’t fuck up today,” Tobio said, steady and certain as ever. 

And in that moment, he realized that Tobio Kageyama really was so much better than he would ever be. But god, something about him made him want to try. 

Fresh air rushed into Oikawa’s lungs and he realized he’d forgotten to breathe, tearing his gaze away from Kageyama’s and crossing his arms across his chest defensively. He stuttered out the first biting remark that popped into his head, “Are you gonna yell at me for wandering off?”

A half smile tugged at Tobio’s lips as he shook his head, and turned around, calling over his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s go home, I’m starving.”

He probably didn’t mean it quite the way it sounded, but it made Tooru’s chest ache as he stumbled over his own feet to catch up- in a good way, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Let me know what y'all think and gear up for the next chapter cause I really went left field and wrote a bunch from Iwa's POV
> 
> See y'all soon <3


	3. was never the right time, whenever you called {went little by little by little until there was nothing at all}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi nodded slowly, squinting at the younger man. “You said yesterday that he threatened you if you called me.”
> 
> Kageyama nodded, not seeming all that concerned about having breached that rule, despite what he had said on the phone. 
> 
> “You outweigh him by like fifty pounds, Kageyama, how was he supposed to do that?” he hissed, gesturing at Oikawa’s rail thin body, which was exceptionally fragile looking as of late. 
> 
> A bitter snort huffed between Kageyama’s lips, his forehead creased with a frown for the first time during their conversation. “He wasn’t threatening to hurt me . He tried that, it didn’t have much effect so he just kept poking until he found what got a reaction-”
> 
> That sounded exactly what Tooru did with every single person in his life, but Iwaizumi still felt like he was missing what he was trying to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back y'all, things have been hectic and I'm still working on some other stuff that I'll hopefully finish and get around to posting. In the interim,,, it's Iwa Time
> 
> As always a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, Papillon10!!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy ^-^

As someone with a hectic life and troublesome best friend who had no qualms about showing up if his calls were ignored, Iwaizumi kept his phone on him nearly all the time -with its ringer on. He’d learned his lesson the hard way. 

So when it rang in his pocket, he fished it out, nearly declining the call before he read the caller ID. 

On an ordinary day at work, he probably wouldn’t even glance at his phone when it rang, except to silence it. Oikawa had his own ringtone, so he always knew immediately whether it was him calling or not. 

But Tobio Kageyama’s name didn’t flash across his phone screen on an ordinary day. 

Hajime stared blankly down at the buzzing device, wracking his brain for a reason why his middle-school underclassman would be calling- he hadn’t heard from him in years. Raising the phone to his ear, he accepted the call. “Hello?”

Kageyama’s voice echoed from the speaker, matter of fact and monotonous as ever. “Hello Iwaizumi-san. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know where Oikawa-san lives?”

Tobio Kageyama definitely didn’t call him to ask about Oikawa on an ordinary day. 

“Uh, hey Kageyama.” Hajime kept his voice as steady and unbothered as he could manage despite the fact that the sky might be falling. "I do know where he lives, can I ask why?”

A heavy sigh crackled through the phone, eerily similar to one he often found himself uttering when it came to his best friend. 

"He’s been at my apartment for a few days, which is fine. But my clothes are really too big for him and I don’t own a single hair product, which he has whined about three times, but he won’t even tell me where he lives and I’m trying not to push him too much so I’m hoping maybe you can help me?" Kageyama blurted out in one breath, his voice rising in pitch.

Iwaizumi pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at the screen, wondering if he'd somehow misheard. “...I'm sorry, he’s _what?_ ” 

Kageyama hesitated, “I, uh, ran into him in the park in the middle of the night and he was really out of it so I carried him back to my place and he’s been here since.” 

A long moment passed while he processed the concept of Tooru Oikawa not just staying with Kageyama but apparently refusing to leave.

“Iwaizumi-san?”

“Oh my god. I’m sorry, Kageyama,” Hajime said, pulled free from his thoughts and scrambling to puzzle out how to handle the ongoing debacle of a person that his friend happened to be. “We haven’t talked much lately, but I know he’s been acting weird. I can come get him.”

This time Kageyama didn’t even pause, stumbling over his words in his haste. “No! No, he doesn’t have to leave if he doesn’t want to, I-I’m worried about him, Iwaizumi-san. He’s not okay. Could you get some things you think he might need or want?”

Iwaizumi had never known Kageyama to be anything but transparent and honest, so he didn’t doubt his sincerity, he just didn’t know what to do with the information. Nothing about it made any sense. 

“I mean…yeah, I can do that, are you sure?” He asked, reaching up to rub at his temple as a migraine began to build pressure behind his eyes. 

“Yes, thank you, Iwaizumi-san.” The relief in Kageyama’s voice was stark, as was the heavy exhaustion tingeing it. “I’ll text you my address and you can drop them off whenever it’s convenient.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t adding up and he wouldn’t put it past his obnoxious friend to badger their old underclassman into doing something. “Kageyama...are you okay? Oikawa didn’t put you up to this did he?”

An amused noise snorted through the speaker, Kageyama’s words almost good humored when he replied. “No, he didn’t. He won’t really tell me anything more significant than his opinion on my dish soap and choice of cartoons. I think...I think I just happened to be there at the right time and that meant something to him.” He paused, then dropped his voice to a hushed whisper. “The shower just turned off though so I have to go, he threatened me with bodily harm if I called you.”

He _what._

Imaginary alarm bells and visions of his idiot best friend somehow holding Kageyama hostage, or at the very least involved in some kind of scheme, flashed before his eye. 

“Kageyama, wait-” Hajime objected, practically yelling into the phone.

The line went dead. 

Staring blankly into space with the phone still pressed to his ear, he wondered whether it would be better or worse if the entire thing was some complex auditory hallucination. 

But then his phone buzzed with an incoming message.

\---

If Iwaizumi had to make a list of people that Tooru Oikawa would go to in a time of crisis, Tobio Kageyama would not even make the list. Not just because Oikawa disliked him, but also because his best friend was the most egotistical asshole to walk the planet and possessed a morbid fear of vulnerability that kept him from being honest even with himself. 

Much less his “archenemy.”

Kageyama might even exist on a separate list of people that Oikawa absolutely would _not_ go to in a time of crisis. 

And yet, he was standing outside the younger man’s door with a duffle bag and a cane slung across his shoulders, wondering if it would make him a bad person to beat Oikawa with his own cane if this turned out to be some ridiculous scheme.

Per earlier instructions from Kageyama, he didn’t knock.

**To: Tobio Kageyama**

**Sent 18:43** I’m here

**Received 18:44** I cant get the door right now. Theres a key under the mat

**Received 18:45** Try to be quiet please

That was a little unnecessarily ominous, and though he didn’t really think Kageyama was manipulating him, it didn’t settle his nerves at all.

He located the key with little trouble and fit it into the lock, taking a single deep breath and thinking calming thoughts.

Just in case.

Sliding the door open -and wincing when it creaked conspicuously- Hajime slipped inside and found himself in a small, neatly organized living room. 

Kageyama twisted his head from where he was sitting on the couch and put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, then pointed at the chair opposite him.

Carefully piling Oikawa’s things on the floor, he crossed the room and stopped dead in his tracks as he rounded the couch.

A mess of exceptionally unruly- but still painfully familiar- hair just barely peeked out of a mass of blankets, tucked half in Kageyama’s lap. 

Iwaizumi's jaw dropped, a nonsensical series of hushed noises erupting from it. 

Something about his best friend, supposedly asleep, with his face buried in Kageyama’s stomach, felt like a massive, neon warning sign.

Or maybe a loaded bear trap that he was about to step into. 

Moving to collapse in the armchair, Hajime tore his eyes away from Oikawa and back to Kageyama. "Are you guys punking me? Is this an elaborate prank?” he hissed, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

A half smile played at Kageyama’s lips, but he shook his head without elaborating. 

This did nothing to settle Iwaizumi's frayed nerves as he objected, “He texted me _yesterday_. Totally normal, said everything was okay.” 

Kageyama tipped his head to the side and seemed to consider the idea. “I don’t think that was technically a lie. He only had one tantrum yesterday and it was because I told him iced coffee didn’t count as a meal and dumped it.” 

“And he let you?” he asked, incredulously.

Iwaizumi couldn't have put words to how he would have expected Kageyama to be with Oikawa staying in his house and currently sleeping in his lap -mostly because that was a scenario he considered outside the realm of possibility.

And yet, he was staring right at it, and even more perplexing, Kageyama seemed relatively unbothered by it. 

“Well, he didn’t speak to me for an hour but he couldn’t stop me.” He punctuated his hushed words with a shrug.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, squinting at the younger man. “You said yesterday that he threatened you if you called me.”

Kageyama nodded, not seeming all that concerned about having breached that rule, despite what he had said on the phone. And to add to that, he’d filled out since the last time Hajime had seen him. If anything, Kageyama looked more intimidating than he had in high school. His athletic frame and broad shoulders made an imposing figure that left Iwaizumi with the suspicion that he was more than a match for Oikawa if things came to physical violence. 

“You outweigh him by like fifty pounds, Kageyama, how was he supposed to do that?” he hissed, gesturing at Oikawa’s rail thin body, which was exceptionally fragile looking as of late. 

A bitter snort huffed between Kageyama’s lips, his forehead creased with a frown for the first time during their conversation. “He wasn’t threatening to hurt _me_. He tried that, it didn’t have much effect so he just kept poking until he found what got a reaction-”

That sounded exactly what Tooru did with every single person in his life, but Iwaizumi still felt like he was missing what he was trying to say. 

“- I think he could tell that I thought he might actually do it cause I didn’t let him out of my sight for a solid twelve hours.” Kageyama continued, “He eventually told me to stop worrying so much and hasn’t said it since.”

That did _not_ sound like what Tooru did with people in his life. His best friend relished in maximizing discomfort and would hate to pass up on a chance to make someone squirm- especially when that someone was Tobio Kageyama. On top of that, Kageyama was being abnormally vague and Hajime was still failing to grasp what he was getting at. 

His confusion must have been written on his face because before he could even open his mouth, Kageyama fixed him with a hollow stare.

“I pulled him off a bridge, Iwaizumi-san,” he said, each word careful and deliberate, “He says he wasn’t going to do it, I want to believe him, but he hasn’t tried to leave since I brought him back here.” Kageyama’s gaze dropped to rest on Oikawa and Iwaizumi watched him lift a hand to hover over his head, hesitating. 

An icy ache spread from the center of his chest, the air knocked from his lungs as if he’d been kicked.

“I don’t think I’d actually let him if he did.” Kageyama finished, carefully brushing his fingers at Oikawa’s hair in a fussy way that was soaked with an emotion Hajime wasn’t even sure he could name.

He leaned back and let out a heavy sigh, the pieces falling into place in his mind. 

The lack of unprompted texts or annoying “drop-ins”, the fact that when he _did_ see Oikawa, it was not just rare but often by accident and each time he’d looked disheveled and not in his carefully-constructed-and-entirely-intentional way. Oikawa was always quick to dismiss his fears or questions, never missing a beat with his plastic voice and plastic smile. 

He’d never really reliably been able to see through that into what he was truly feeling.

Not unless Oikawa wanted him to see it -or he caught him.

“ _I think I was just there at the right time.”_

That was probably more true than Kageyama even realized. His best friend would hide behind his pride for as long as he could, terrified that if he showed any weakness, it would be mocked or used against him. But once he was found out, by himself or one of their friends, it was like he suddenly felt there was nothing left to lose and the truth would come out about whatever thing had been bothering him. 

But only to that person. Which is why Iwaizumi didn’t find out about Oikawa’s injury for almost a month and when he did find out, it was from Kunimi. 

It was why he was finding out from Tobio Kageyama that his best friend had best case considered a suicide attempt, and worst case, actually attempted it.

And Kageyama had caught him this time. So now he was Oikawa’s person for the foreseeable future, and Oikawa was probably going to pitch a fit about the fact that he’d “tattled” on him.

Hajime opened his mouth to ask him why he was going to such lengths to help Tooru -someone he objectively owed nothing- only to choke back his words when Oikawa shifted in Tobio’s lap and the younger man’s expression softened more than he thought was possible. 

“Tobio.” Oikawa’s voice was little more than a sleepy rasp, but in the years that he’d known both of them, he’d never heard Oikawa address Kageyama with such honest fondness.

Kageyama didn’t respond with more than a gentle hum of acknowledgement.

It was enough for Oikawa apparently, because he immediately whined, “I’m hungry.”

“If you even _think_ the word coffee, I’m going to strangle you.” The scowl that Kageyama aimed down at him was dark, but Iwaizumi could see it lacked any real venom, and he had no doubt that Tooru could too. 

“Promise?”

Kageyama stared down at Oikawa for a long, silent moment, then unblinkingly replied in perfect monotone. “Yeah, but only if you make it kinky and call me daddy or something. Otherwise it isn’t funny.”

Iwaizumi almost choked on his own spit. 

“Dammit,” Oikawa cursed, not seeming surprised by his response, merely irritated that he’d been outdone. “Give me five minutes to process that and get over myself and then I’ll do it.”

“Might want to wait a little longer.” The tiny grin teasing Kageyama’s lips made him think he was observing an ongoing competition. One that Kageyama appeared to be winning. 

“Why? Do you have plans?” Tooru’s tone was suspicious, but playfully so, an easygoing drawl that Iwaizumi had heard a million times.

And yet it sounded entirely foreign when directed at Kageyama. 

Kageyama’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and if someone had asked, Iwaizumi would have said that his eyes sparkled with mischief- a look that reminded him eerily of the one that Tooru often aimed at him while teasing someone else.

“No. We just have company,” Kageyama said, oozing nonchalance in his announcement.

The mass of blankets that was Oikawa went perfectly still as he hissed, “We have, _what_?”

It took little imagination for Hajime to picture the scathing glare his best friend was directing up at Kageyama, and yet he appeared thoroughly unbothered by it when he responded. “Did I forget to mention I invited a friend over? My bad.” He certainly didn’t sound at all apologetic for his actions. 

Oikawa shoved himself up and away from Kageyama with such abrupt force he nearly toppled clear off the couch, a strangled yelp exiting his throat as he fumbled with the blankets still draped around his body. 

Finally upright, he fixed Iwaizumi with a look that gave him the impression that if he were not already paler than a corpse, he would be watching the blood drain from his friend’s face. Choosing to wait for Tooru to speak, he took the time to scrutinize his appearance. 

Which generally speaking, looked pretty shitty -dark smudges under his eyes, hollowed out cheeks, and disheveled hair that appeared to have not seen a hairbrush in ages, much less any product. 

The last detail was almost the most alarming thing he’d seen all day, not once in the entire miserable time he’d known Tooru Oikawa had the man let his hair just _be._

It left Hajime to wonder just how badly he’d been doing this entire time, right under his nose.

A tense silence stretched as they eyed each other, Tooru’s eyes wide and wary as he drew in on himself like a cornered animal. “I can explain.”

“Oh?” Iwaizumi hadn’t meant for it to sound quite so much like a scoff, but it was too late to take it back so he leaned back and gestured at his friend. “Well go ahead then, don’t let me stop you.”

“I-What are you even doing here?” Oikawa sputtered, looking anywhere but at Iwaizumi as he shifted to put distance between him and Kageyama. 

Despite the fact that it only seemed to agitate _both_ of them.

Squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Hajime answered him, his patience replaced with an icy bite. “That wasn’t an explanation but since I have nothing to hide, unlike you, apparently, I brought some of your shit. Including the cane you’re supposed to be using _most of the time_.” 

He was being almost antagonistic in his responses, snapping back like Oikawa usually did.

It was unfair of him. 

Iwaizumi wasn’t angry with his friend. He was furious with himself for not noticing how he was suffering, for not being the person that he’d needed. For leaving him to be found on a bridge in the middle of the night, by Tobio Kageyama of all people. 

“You’re supposed to be using a cane?” Kageyama barked incredulously, grabbing Tooru’s arm to get his attention. 

Oikawa shrugged his hand off, barely glancing at him. “It’s _fine_.” 

The drastic change in his friend’s behaviour once he’d realized that he was there was painful- and not just for Hajime, if the hurt that flickered across Kageyama’s face was anything to go by.

But unlike Hajime, he shoved that aside immediately and his voice was steady and patient when he protested. “You played volleyball yesterday.”“You did _what_?” Iwaizumi shouted, jumping back into the conversation. 

“I set tosses to a nine year old!” Tooru shrieked, his voice rising in pitch until it was almost hysterical. “I barely even moved!”

Clenching his fists and sucking a deep breath through his nose, Hajime willed himself to keep his cool. “It doesn’t matter. Why are you _here_?”

Oikawa’s jaw snapped shut so hard that Hajime winced at the audible crack, but he was less phased by the icy glower that Tooru had fixed on him. This was far from the first time his friend had evaded a question by trying to intimidate him into silence.

It almost never worked, especially not when Oikawa looked like he might snap in half if a strong breeze blew by. 

Seeming to realize that he wouldn’t get what he wanted -and for what it was worth, he was outnumbered- Tooru let an ugly sneer curl his lip back. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Hajime.” He snarled, tone cutting and dripping with venom as he stormed out of the room. 

It was fake. Just like everything else Oikawa had said to him in recent months, apparently. 

Iwaizumi stared at Kageyama in silence; the younger man didn’t seem surprised by Oikawa’s tantrum but neither of them moved to chase after him.

Trying to force Tooru to do something -especially talk about something he didn’t want to- was an exercise in futility and both of them seemed to know it.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself up, running a hand through his hair. “Are you really okay, Kageyama?” Hajime finally asked. 

Kageyama kept quiet as he followed him to the door, then spoke, just above a whisper, “Sometimes I feel like I’m in some kind of parallel universe, but he’s really not all that much trouble. Even when he’s pissed at me. At least then his eyes don’t look dead.” 

His unfailing honesty contrasted almost violently with Oikawa’s evasive actions. But as the door closed behind him, it left Iwaizumi wondering when Tobio Kageyama had become better at reading his best friend than he was. 

\---

Iwaizumi was halfway down the block when he heard shouts behind him. 

"Wait! Hajime!” 

Spine snapping straight, he turned, finding Oikawa barrelling down the sidewalk -cane uselessly grasped in his hand- with a gait that was uneven and obviously painful.

Tooru Oikawa didn’t call him by his first name on an ordinary day. 

His best friend slowed to a stop a few feet away, head tilted down to hide his eyes as he panted, waving the hand holding his cane. “Fuck, you're not Captain America why do you walk so damn fast." 

Narrowing his eyes at him, Iwaizumi ignored his jab, "Why'd you bring that if you were just gonna carry it?"

"To hit you with," Tooru snapped back, swatting the cane at him half heartedly as he straightened up to meet his eyes. 

Reading Oikawa had always been a hit or miss affair for Hajime, he’d learned that it was better to stay silent and let his friend’s words betray him, rather than guess what he was thinking.

So he stared back expectantly, waiting for him to say what he followed him out to say. 

Oikawa’s eyes dropped again, landing on the cane as he shifted from one foot to the other. “Tobio shoved it in my hand when he dragged me out here,” he mumbled, glancing back over his shoulder.

Keeping his expression neutral, Iwaizumi followed his gaze to a tall figure waiting in the distance, not doubting for a second that it was Kageyama, who somehow continued to not just pick battles with Tooru, but also continued to win. 

Which had an odd sort of irony to it, if he really thought about it. 

Even the most selfless person would have a hard time putting up with his friend, and if you’d asked him yesterday he would have said there wasn’t anyone who could force Tooru Oikawa to do something he didn’t want to.

Especially not Tobio Kageyama.

And yet, on this truly extraordinary day, Hajime Iwaizumi had seen it all. 

For reasons he wasn’t sure _he_ could fully grasp, the two of them had decided to care about each other, in an awkward and maybe even dangerous way.

But something in his gut told him it was a good thing. 

Taking a step towards his friend, Iwaizumi growled in a low voice, only half joking, "You'd better not fucking kill yourself or I'll walk down to hell and drag you back myself." 

He meant it, for his own sake, as well as Kageyama’s.

Tooru startled, whipping his head back to stare at him, silent for a long moment. "You're a better friend than me, Iwa-chan,” he said eventually, letting a wobbly smile quirk his lips.

Of course. 

Tooru Oikawa didn’t make a habit of compromising his pride for an apology even on an extraordinary day, so Hajime knew that was the best he was going to get. But it was honest, and it was a lot more than Tooru usually gave.

He’d never admit it, but hearing the familiar obnoxious nickname was almost a relief. 

A laugh rumbled in his chest, "Yeah, we knew that, you piece of shit."

"I'll pretend i didn't hear that. If you promise not to ask any more questions, you can come back in with me to see what Tobio has planned us for dinner."

"Hm.” He slung an arm over Oikawa’s shoulder and steered him back the way they came. “Counter offer. We go treat Tobio to dinner because he deserves it for dealing with you."

As Tooru sputtered, wailing about his stunning personality, and he choked back his laughter to further aggravate his friend, Hajime Iwaizumi had a feeling that he wouldn’t see another ordinary day for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be real, I enjoyed writing this chapter a /lot/. Originally it was from Kageyama's POV and I scrapped it and switched it to Iwa's to get an outside perspective of the dynamic and really tap into how he would be feeling to learn that his best friend had been hiding so much from him. I hope liked it, if you feel like making my day, drop me a comment, I could really use the serotonin 
> 
> Next chapter will be up in a couple weeks and it'll give you a cavity with the fluffy antics ^-^


	4. would we be better off by now {if I'd have let my walls come down?}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he glanced back over his shoulder, he found Oikawa blinking after him, warring emotions written plainly across his face, eventually settling in a flimsy sulk. 
> 
> Oikawa forced out a frustrated shriek and closed the door with more force than necessary. “Fine!” he growled, stomping by him into the living room to throw himself on the floor and stretch, a defiant glare aimed back at him the entire time.
> 
> Unbidden, a smile curled his lips.
> 
> Maybe he hadn’t really learned patience at all.
> 
> Maybe these interactions left him just a little bit breathless, veins itching beneath his skin, begging for more. Of what- he couldn’t say. 
> 
> But maybe more than anything, he was dreading the day that Tooru finally decided to leave, and the silence that would be left behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello Lovelies!!! 
> 
> I am here with the conclusion to this story, I know I made y'all wait but I hope this (slightly belated) Christmas present will make up for it!! 
> 
> Iizuumi on Twitter did some companion art for this fic that is A M A Z I N G, like brought me to tears amazing, you can check it out [here!](https://twitter.com/Iizuumi/status/1342692194910613505) Please please give them some love, they deserve it!!
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to my beta, Papillon10 <3

Iwaizumi’s visit had left Oikawa in high spirits, so high, in fact, that Kageyama had half expected him to decide to leave.

But he hadn’t. 

Instead, Oikawa had curled up in a blanket cocoon and fallen into a fitful sleep on his shoulder 23 minutes into a movie, just like he had every night since Tobio had brought him home. 

He’d had nightmares that left him crying in his sleep but he'd refused to talk about them next day, ignoring any questions in favour of digging through the fridge. And he’d made himself a general nuisance until Kageyama gave in and they went for coffee.

Just like every morning.

Kageyama decided not to complain. At least he never had to worry about where Oikawa was -or what he was doing- if he was always right next to him. 

Of course, that also meant he never got a spare moment of peace either. 

“Tell me I need to shower!” Oikawa hollered from the kitchen, over the sounds of both the running faucet and the banging of pots.

Trust Tooru to just overpower them with sheer force.

Kageyama didn’t bother to move from the couch, keeping his eyes focused on the game playing on the screen in front of him as he yelled back, “Do you stink?”

The noise from the other room went completely silent, but he could hear Oikawa walking into the room, and very clearly picture the glare boring into his back. “ _ No. _ I do not stink, Tobio. Why do you ask?” he responded, tone tooth achingly sugar sweet and daring him to keep going.

As if Tobio would start backing down now.

Knowing it would drive Oikawa nuts, he kept his eyes fixed on the TV and shrugged nonchalantly, “If you don’t stink then you don’t  _ need  _ to shower.”

“You literally called me greasy last night,” Oikawa huffed, stepping in front of him to block his view of the TV.

Kageyama made a point not to look up and meet Oikawa’s expectant glower, instead leaning around him to see the screen again -not that he was really paying attention to it at this point. “Two things can be true at the same time,” he replied.

Stomping his foot dramatically, Oikawa shrieked back, "What happened to hygiene is important?"

They had this conversation -or at least, the blueprint of it- multiple times every day. Kageyama always won, and he very much enjoyed winning. But either Oikawa wasn’t aware he was losing, or perhaps wasn’t aware they were playing at all, because he followed the same pattern every time he decided to pick a fight.

Tobio had learned very quickly that the fastest way to render Tooru Oikawa speechless was to bestow blunt and sincere kindness upon him when he least expected it.

Or something exceptionally out of pocket and provocative -but that was for a different kind of argument.

So he tipped his head back slightly and took his time letting his gaze drift up to meet Oikawa’s, eventually staring directly into his eyes, maintaining a blank, bored expression as he said, "Your happiness is also important." 

He meant it, of course. Tobio had never really seen the point in saying something he didn’t mean.

But he was pretty sure Oikawa thought he said it just to rile him up. Which it did.

Kageyama had to fight back a smirk as a bright red flush spread across Oikawa’s cheekbones, the slender man too proud to break eye contact, but sputtering nonsensically. “Ugh. So sappy,” he finally managed to scoff, “Just tell me to shower so I'll feel adequately shamed into doing it." 

“Oh, in that case you should shower, you’re gross,” Tobio answered immediately, still keeping a straight face. 

“Thanks,” Oikawa spat without any real venom, spinning on his heel and stalking back into the kitchen, the tips of his ears still stained red. 

Allowing himself a small chuckle, Tobio leaned back into the couch and refocused his attention on the game. 

Sometimes he wondered if the fact that he’d stopped backing down was one of the reasons that Tooru had decided to stay. 

\---

It took two weeks of living with Tooru Oikawa for Kageyama to snap.

As a teen, he would blow up spectacularly when he’d reached the end of his rope, very nearly actually biting heads off. With time, he’d managed to grow out of that and into some healthier means of expressing himself. 

But instead of remembering to utilize those means as he felt his temper wearing thin, Tobio had bottled up his feelings, letting them fester and build until he approached his breaking point.

“Like my Instagram post,” Oikawa ordered imperiously, draping himself over the back of the couch to hover close enough that Kageyama could smell his floral hair product -which he’d been  _ so  _ relieved to have because Tobio’s 3-in-1 was an ‘affront to nature’ and that made his hair ‘lifeless’. 

“I already did. Do you want me to go back and comment too?” Kageyama retorted, giving him a half-heartedly sour look along with the jab. 

Oikawa puffed his lower lip into a perfect pout, drawing his eyes to the rosy pink skin so effectively that the intention was probably lost on him. “You don’t have to,” he sighed, ducking his head to simper dramatically, gazing up at him through his eyelashes. “It’s just a shame that my favourite person didn’t say anything.”

“Oh my god, that’s not even true,” Kageyama groaned, tipping his head back to physically tear his eyes away from him.

It didn’t work, he gave in almost immediately, peeking at Tooru from the corner of his eye.

The perfect pout split into a wicked smirk for a fraction of a second.

“It’s fine,” Oikawa sighed, his desolate mask reappearing, this time complete with a lip tremble. “Don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t the fact that it was fake that made Tobio’s blood boil and his fingers itch to throttle the troublesome man.

It was the fact that it was  _ working. _

He heaved a sigh, channeling every ounce of his exhausted exasperation into it and hauled himself off the couch.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa called after him, any trace of his ‘despair’ long gone. 

Losing his cool and yelling would potentially endanger the odd but comfortable relationship they had formed, and Kageyama wasn’t willing to risk that. 

But he would allow himself to be a little petty about it.

He stepped into the bathroom and turned to look back at Oikawa, staring after him curiously. “I’m about to comment on every post you’ve ever made.” Tobio said, sliding the door shut and locking it.

“Wait!” 

A series of yelps and thuds left a self satisfied smirk quirking his lips as he listened to Oikawa scramble across the room to bang on the door. He slid down to sit with his back against it, searching through Instagram to pull up Oikawa’s page.

173 posts, mostly selfies and aesthetic pictures of coffee.

He could handle that. 

“C’mon Tobio, you don’t mean  _ every  _ post, right?”

Kageyama didn’t bother to even acknowledge him, focused on scrolling down to his oldest post. 

Predictably, that photo was a selfie of Oikawa, smiling charmingly at the camera, long fingers making an unfairly graceful peace sign. 

He typed a short comment and posted it, moving on to the next without thinking too hard about it. A loud trill sounded on the other side of the door as he scanned a picture of a sunset. 

“That was 102 weeks ago, Tobio!” Tooru shrieked from the other side of the door, once again pounding on the wood, “And all you wrote was ‘gay’. Come out here and fight me with your fists, you coward.”

Choking back a laugh and tuning out the continuous whining, Kageyama plowed through picture after picture, alternating between light jabs and idle observations. 

Eventually Oikawa fell silent, but didn’t seem to move, based on the beeping of his phone every time he received another comment notification.

His silence was no less satisfying and only served to encourage Tobio as he typed message after message after message, finding it surprisingly cathartic.

Around what must have been the hundredth comment, Oikawa wailed again, “Are you fucking  _ serious? _ Stop asking me if I think I look good, you know that I do or I wouldn’t have posted it.”

A snort escaped him before he could stifle it and the indignant screeching from the other side of the door told him that Tooru had heard. 

His phone buzzed angrily in his hand and a series of messages scrolled across the top of the screen.

**From: Oikawa**

**12:36** Look we GET IT

**12:36** You’re a top

**12:37** Will you PLEASE give it up

Genuine glee bubbled up in his chest until it spilled free, tumbling past his lips as he pulled himself back to his feet and slid the door open. 

Only to have Tooru tumble through to land at his feet in a heap, blinking up at him with wide eyes, sparkling with infuriated fire.

“I got my privileges restricted by instagram,” he announced, perhaps with just a hint of pride.

“I despise you,” Oikawa snapped back without even pausing, still sprawled on the ground. 

A lopsided grin tugged his lips into an awkward smile that was becoming more familiar the longer they lived together. “I don’t think you do,” Kageyama teased, offering the man a hand.

He was joking, but Oikawa’s cheeks flushed dark as he helped him up, slender fingers burning where they gripped his wrist.

The air in his lungs caught and stuttered, leaving him with the fleeting thought that maybe Tooru stayed because he actually liked the attention- even if it was from him.

##  \---

If living with Tooru Oikawa had taught him anything, it was patience. By a month in, Kageyama was near certain he could apply for sainthood with the new heights his tolerance had reached. 

This thought had first occurred to him when he realized that he’d formed a very regular habit of doing laundry just to grab a few moments of peace and quiet in the empty laundry room of his apartment building.

Not that it actually worked, because apparently even when he was not being actively oppressed by the physical person that was Oikawa, his every stray thought still thoroughly revolved around him.

Kageyama would never tell him that, for fear of his ego swelling so large that it suffocated them both on the spot. 

But it was true all the same, and one of those many stray thoughts had Tobio tugging his phone from his pocket, wondering when he’d become a full time personal assistant devoted to keeping track of Oikawa’s daily schedule. 

**To: Tooru**

**Sent 14:47** Make sure you do your exercises

**Received 14:50** Ugh

**Received 14:51** I hate them. It’s my least favourite part of the day.

**Sent 14:56** My least favourite part of our day was when you threatened to beat a stranger with your cane

Tobio was half inside the dryer when his phone vibrated angrily on top of the appliance, startling him into jerking up and banging his head. 

It really was incredible how Tooru managed to make his life difficult without even needing to be present. 

**Received 14:59** First of all

**Received 15:00** Don’t act like you wouldn’t bludgeon the first idiot who pissed you off if you had cripple privileges

"I wouldn't, because I have manners, unlike some people." Tobio muttered under his breath, a harsh scowl fixed on his face. 

Before he could even type a response, his phone buzzed to life again.

**Received 15:00** Second of all

**Received 15:01** Just because you’ve already suffered doesn’t mean that I also must suffer

The dull ache of a swelling migraine pounded in the base of his skull, directly where he’d bashed his head into the roof of the dryer- which meant he could doubly blame it on Oikawa. 

So he figured there was nothing wrong with a couple petty threats. 

**Sent 15:05** Do them or no iced coffee before practice tomorrow 

**Received 15:05** You wouldn’t

Kageyama didn’t bother to text back, just rolled his eyes. He didn’t even drink coffee.

The daily coffee habit was something he’d built into his routine  _ after  _ Oikawa moved in, and he was at least halfway confident that Oikawa was aware of that. But occasionally he gave him too much credit. 

Shoving the last of his freshly dried clothing into a bag with a snort, Kageyama straightened up and checked his phone as he headed back upstairs. 

**Received 15:07** I have to coach six preteen goblins!!!!

**Sent 15:10** Damn better do your exercises then

Kageyama replied from outside his own front door, pressing send and then reaching for the doorknob.

Only to have it swing open and reveal Oikawa, his face twisted into what was likely meant to be an intimidating scowl -but the bright purple goo across his cheeks and clipped back bangs really dampened the effects. 

“This is domestic abuse. You’re manipulating me,” he accused, the note of betrayal in his voice too polished to be genuine.

“Hypocrisy is a bad look on you, Tooru.” Less than impressed -and hoping it showed- Kageyama stepped forward, expecting Oikawa to move and let him in. 

As if he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. 

Oikawa didn’t give an inch, gasping dramatically as he pressed a hand to his chest and feigned innocence. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re trying to imply.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kageyama decided that if Tooru really wanted to play, then they could play. 

He took another step forward, lowering his head so they were practically nose to nose, inches from touching -and ignored the shiver snaking up his spine at the sudden proximity. “I’m sorry, Oikawa-san, let me communicate better. I’ve just had this wonderful idea to go on a coffee cleanse for an entire week, wouldn’t that be fun?” 

Half a beat of utter silence passed and Oikawa’s lips screwed into a distasteful pout, pale pink just beginning to dust his cheeks as he sneered at him, “So you hate me.”

And if he leaned impossibly closer -until all that separated them was the sharp gasp that Tooru let out in surprise- it was to maximize the effect of his next jab.

Not because he wanted to see Tooru’s flush deepen and spread down his neck.

But that did make the goo stuck to his nose completely worth it.

“Actually, you’ve grown on me-” Kageyama said, putting on his best impression of being nonchalant. It wasn’t quite as practiced as many of Oikawa’s masks, but he liked to think he was improving with every ‘showdown’ they had. 

Tooru’s eyes flew wide with surprise, his jaw falling slack.

He didn’t give him the chance to speak, gently shoving him out of the way along with one more cheerful taunt. “-Like a contagious rash or slime mold.” 

When he glanced back over his shoulder, he found Oikawa blinking after him, warring emotions written plainly across his face, eventually settling in a flimsy sulk. 

Oikawa forced out a frustrated shriek and closed the door with more force than necessary. “Fine!” he growled, stomping by him into the living room to throw himself on the floor and stretch, a defiant glare aimed back at him the entire time.

Unbidden, a smile curled his lips.

Maybe he hadn’t really learned patience at all.

Maybe these interactions left him just a little bit breathless, veins itching beneath his skin, begging for more. Of what- he couldn’t say. 

But maybe more than anything, he was dreading the day that Tooru finally decided to leave, and the silence that would be left behind. 

\---

Two months of living with Tooru Oikawa had taught Tobio to never expect a boring day. To date, exactly one had occurred and he’d failed to properly appreciate it for the gift it was because he was too anxious about why Oikawa was being quiet and well behaved for once.

As far as he knew, it was just a fluke and there was nothing wrong in the first place.

But Tooru had been very quick to insist that was the case, so he wasn’t wholly convinced. He was hyper aware of the fact that Oikawa habitually acted up solely to elicit reactions, and very rarely were his actions without some sort of motive -innocent or otherwise.

That said, Kageyama tolerated -and maybe even enjoyed- many of Oikawa’s little word and mind games throughout each day. 

Tooru had a natural air about him that sucked people in, making it near impossible to simply ignore him, and years of never knowing where the other truly stood, chasing each other’s heels in a desperate attempt to keep up, had given them both an odd sort of addiction to matching each other step for step.

And now that they’d finally found equal ground, the razor edged insults had softened to playful taunts and obnoxious antics. 

So it was less than surprising when Oikawa stumbled into the living room with a blanket draped around his shoulders and clambered across him to squeeze between Kageyama and the back of the couch he was sprawled across. 

Despite every part of Tooru Oikawa’s body being an unnatural level of sharp, the seating arrangement was neither uncomfortable nor unfamiliar.

Though it did knock the air from his lungs, and not just because he’d been elbowed in the ribs. “You do know there are three other places you could sit without trying to push me on the floor,” Tobio muttered, his voice dry but lacking any real irritation as he turned on his phone and began scrolling mindlessly through social media to focus on anything except the man invading his space. 

“You do know those other three seats don’t include a human space heater and thus are inferior ” Oikawa drawled sarcastically, shuffling his position until he settled with the entire length of his body pressed against Kageyama’s.

That had stopped phasing him after the first month.

Tooru burying his face in the back of his neck -and letting his scorching breath fan across the sensitive skin like a brand with every lazy word and stray huff of amusement- was a new trick.

And a tragically effective one at that, if his stuttering breath and lack of a retort were anything to go by. 

A slight tilt of his head left Oikawa’s lips just barely brushing his flesh as he asked, in his most obnoxious sing-song, “Do you like me?” 

His heart clenched in his chest, almost as if it had forgotten how to beat, tapping out an awkward and painful melody that left him blurting the first thing he could think of. 

“Sometimes,” Kageyama said, forcing his most practiced monotone and keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his phone. 

“...You’re supposed to say yes.” 

Though he wasn’t actually able to  _ see  _ Tooru, he could tell he was pouting, and forced himself to stifle an amused snort. “Oh okay, start over,” he hummed, continuing to feign disinterest.

Oikawa let out a pleased little ‘hmph’ at getting his way that nearly made Kageyama turn over and smother him with a pillow. 

But that would ruin the game, and he was still planning to win. 

“Do you like me?” Tooru asked again. Only this time the words were murmured, hushed and unusually hesitant, with his lips pressed to the shell of Tobio’s ear. 

He hesitated, but only barely. “No.”

Kageyama played along with many of Oikawa’s little mind games -but he didn’t always play nice. Especially when his 'opponent' so frequently had him second guessing himself. 

A banshee shriek pierced his ears and left them ringing, followed immediately by a pillow being repeatedly slammed into his face. 

“You can’t say that! I’ve slept in your bed for the last month!” Oikawa howled, shoving at his back in a weak attempt to push him onto the floor. 

Technically, he had a point. A month of waking up in the middle of the night to the tell-tale crash of Oikawa’s body tumbling off the couch mid-nightmare had lead to a near permanent crick in his neck, thanks to his habit of falling asleep with Tooru once he was successfully soothed and returned to aforementioned couch. 

So Kageyama had staged an intervention, for the sake of his posture and sleep schedule, and convinced Oikawa to share his king sized bed. It was almost absurdly large, not to mention comfortable, and he was extremely over sleeping on the couch. 

Although “convinced” was a little less than accurate. More like, the next night when Tooru woke him up -as usual- he’d bundled him in his blankets and dumped him in his bed with a dark glower that dared him to argue. 

He hadn’t. Which was really more surprising than anything else he might have done. 

And his nightmares slowed to a stop. 

But just because Tooru was  _ right  _ about something -which was a poor excuse for a move anyway, since he was really saying that  _ Kageyama  _ had been right- didn’t mean that he had won. 

Kageyama blocked the next blow of the pillow, and twisted his head to meet Tooru’s eyes, narrowed in an indignant and -mostly playful- fury. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips before he could control it, stretching further when Oikawa’s brow twitched and he saw apprehension creep over him. 

“What do you have a crush on me or something?” he let the question seep out in a lazy drawl straight from Tooru Oikawa’s own playbook, easy going, unbothered, and entirely provocative. 

And to his absolute delight it worked like a charm. 

A rosy flush had risen to paint Oikawa’s cheeks, his eyes impossibly wide as he sputtered. “No, of course not, you infuriating brat, get out of my space -your cooties are getting everywhere.” With an exceptionally rough shove, Kageyama finally teetered off the couch. 

But he lay there on the carpet, wholly unperturbed, and let himself laugh, not so graciously accepting his win. 

For a moment, Tobio let himself wonder if maybe Tooru stayed because he  _ liked  _ him.

And why  _ he _ liked seeing him blush so much.

Then Oikawa chucked another pillow at him, still muttering venomless insults about anything he could think of to nitpick on, and he was lunging off the floor to threaten to smother him. 

\---

Sometimes, when Oikawa was feeling unusually content to be silent, Tobio was given enough time to ruminate in brief clarity how a lifetime’s worth of change can occur in such a short time.

In those moments, he would often find himself lost in more than just the physical changes, Tooru’s cheeks had filled out and regained colour, his dark circles fading into nothing over time, his smiles becoming softer and more genuine with each passing day. But it was more than that. 

Half a year had destroyed every expectation, and nearly every preconceived notion, that had existed between him and his former mentor for their entire ‘relationship’, and built up a wary but powerful connection from the ash. 

The version of himself that existed six months earlier would never have believed that he’d find himself sitting on a low wooden bridge, with his roommate and maybe-something-else, Tooru Oikawa, who kept trying to fall off into the creek below from how far he was leaning over to peer at the Koi swimming in lazy circles beneath the surface.

He’d already tugged him back by the neck of his shirt more than once, but he hadn’t complained, just let an affectionately long suffering smile fix itself on his face. 

Half a year ago, to the day, they had stood on a very different bridge, and he had considered their meeting a crossroads. He’d expected to pass by Oikawa, as they always had in the past, each time fundamentally changing each other and then vanishing nearly as quickly as they had crashed together. 

But now -wearing a jacket that smelled like Tooru’s cologne because he borrowed it so often and watching the light of the setting sun turn his eyes to molten embers that left Tobio’s skin burning whenever they drifted over him- it seemed as if their fates had always been intertwined, destined to end up here. 

It was a thought that haunted him through a million tiny moments that were far more significant than they should be. Like the fact that Oikawa never slept longer than half an hour after Kageyama got up, or their matching toothbrushes perched side by side in the bathroom.

Or the way that their hands seemed to seek each other out every so often, as if to remind the other they were still there; that things were still real. Sometimes it was just a shy brush of skin against skin, but others it was fingers intertwining like two halves of a puzzle piece- and sometimes they’d forget to let go.

Oikawa teetered a little too far yet again, jerking Tobio from his thoughts as he lunged forward to tug him back before he fell head first into the creek. Shooting a cheeky grin up at him, Tooru hummed a quiet thanks.

“If you fall in, you’re on your own,” Kageyama said, giving him an exasperated look.

A heavy, wistful sigh escaped Oikawa’s chest, accompanied by a pout. “Y’know, you could stand to say something nice to me once in a while.”

As if he was so nice all the time.

Rolling his eyes, Tobio jabbed a finger into his ribs, not even bothering to stifle his smile when Tooru squawked in surprise and smacked his hand away. “The last time I said something nice to you was this morning and you said, and I quote, 'what are you- gay?'"

Oikawa didn’t even pause, his pout firmly back in place. "That doesn't mean I don't want to hear it."

“Why do I hang out with you again?” Kageyama fired back, resisting the urge to shove him off the bridge in a  _ tiny _ act of revenge.

Only the fact that Tooru would then drip all over his car kept him from doing it. 

“I'll have you know that I'm a 'delight' to have around, according to your mother."

Kageyama snorted. 

The bar for that was pretty low, since the only other friends he really brought around were Bokuto, Hinata, and Tsukishima. 

Compared to them, Oikawa was charming, well spoken, had impeccable manners, and, of course, his 'devastating' good looks. He was pretty much the ideal person to introduce to his mother -which was a terrible choice on his part cause now his mother had  _ ideas. _

“Oh? And why do you hang out with me?” 

Oikawa went silent, opening his mouth, hesitating, and then letting it fall closed before opening it again and huffing, “Well, you’re not awful to be around.” He turned his gaze back to the fish, avoiding eye contact and pretending he didn’t care at all.

Despite the fact that his cheeks were tinged pink with more than just a sunburn. 

Despite the fact that -like most times Tooru answered a question honestly- he didn’t say quite what he meant, Tobio still  _ knew  _ without needing him to explain it. Which was good, cause oftentimes they were both too cowardly to actually say anything more.

A laugh bubbled in his chest and spilled free before he even noticed, his thoughts tumbling out along with it. “Yeah okay, Stupid. I love you too.”

Tobio choked the moment the words fell from his lips, settling between them in a suffocating fog. 

Every muscle in Oikawa’s body went perfectly still, picturesquely frozen, still staring down at the creek. Slowly, painfully so, he twisted his head to stare up at him, face blank, but eyes more intense and probing than he’d ever seen them. 

Wilting under the scrutiny, Kageyama fought off the impulse to brush it aside, laugh it off, or -even more humiliatingly- to actually turn tail and run. 

It was too late. He’d already shattered the delicate balance they’d forged and could practically hear the glass shards raining down around him. 

And it really figured that he’d be the reason Oikawa decided to leave. 

The corner of Tooru’s mouth twitched, his voice perfectly calm and even. “Don’t be such a homosexual, Tobio.” 

Before Kageyama could even scoff at him for being a jackass, Oikawa lunged forward, hands grasping either side of his face and slammed their lips together. 

His heart skipped and he forgot how to breath, feeling as though he were free falling.

A second later, he hit the water below and realized they _ had  _ fallen -directly into the creek he’d spent all afternoon keeping Oikawa out of. The water was ice cold, shocking him to his core and knifing clarity through him.

This was real, Tooru had kissed him. 

They both came up laughing, spitting water from their mouths and gasping for air between stray giggles. An ache, warm and affectionate, swelled in his chest, spurring him forward before he could chicken out. 

“You’re the  _ worst _ ,” Kageyama said, not at all sincerely as he let a wide smile stretch his face uncomfortably and reached out to grab Oikawa’s shirt, tugging him into another kiss. 

Slanting their lips together in a careful but insistent manner, he learned two things. 

The first- that Tooru’s lips were soft and addictively pliant under his own as they practically dissolved into each other and he wondered why they hadn’t done this months ago.

The second- that he tasted of iced coffee, spearmint, and sarcasm, and it was probably what he imagined perfection would be.

But he would never, ever say that out loud. 

A need for oxygen forced them to separate, but Oikawa just ducked closer, peppering butterfly kisses along his jaw until Kageyama leaned back to stop him, earning a disappointed whine. “We’re in a creek,” he pointed out dumbly, any more coherent thoughts disappearing as he took in the other man’s appearance.

His hair -much like everything else- was soaked, dripping trails down his brightly flushed cheeks, eyes bright and smiling despite the pout his rosy, kiss swollen lips were twisted into. Oikawa’s expression said ‘yeah, genius, and?’ but he didn’t actually say it aloud. 

Kageyama tipped his head back forward, resting their foreheads together, and nearly gave in to the impulse to kiss him again, but instead, pulled them both onto their feet. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

He’d asked himself more than once if or when Oikawa might leave, but at some point he’d started hoping that he never would. 

And with Tooru stumbling out of the water behind him, clutching at his hand like he might never let go, he thought maybe, if he was really lucky, he just might get his wish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's followed this story over the last couple months, I hope this conclusion is the one you all were hoping for!! 
> 
> Happy Holidays to you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed it! I really poured a lot of myself into this but tried to keep a nice balance between the nuances of both the characters and mental illness and I hope it worked. I had a LOT of fun with Kageyama and my other WIPs will be up soon, I promise!


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